


Warming Up

by lighthouse_at_sea



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Betaed, Body Dysphoria, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Pre-Slash, Second-Hand Embarrassment, and their characteristics being affected by temperature, non-graphic description of genitals, playing around with the idea of Cardassians being lizards, uhh not sure how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24097819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lighthouse_at_sea/pseuds/lighthouse_at_sea
Summary: Garak is enjoying a station-wide malfunction until it begins to affect him in an unforeseen way.
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 6
Kudos: 101





	Warming Up

**Author's Note:**

> Whoa my 10th work. Also my fifth work for Deep Space because I fell in love with the series.
> 
> Huge thank you to [ettaberrytea](https://ettaberrytea.tumblr.com/) for betaing <3

Along with the Vulcan officers, Garak was having a very good week. The public announcement had said the issue could possibly even last another two, and Garak did hope they'd take their time in resolving the matter. While he knew many species did not find the Cardassian-standard temperature ideal, he did believe they were exaggerating the severity of the matter on hand. Bajorans had fared well enough on Terok Nor, and there were no Andorians stationed here. Trills had had to be put on light-duty, but no one was truly _in danger_.

Enveloped in the blissful heat, his own problems with the station were a bit easier to push aside, and Garak found himself taking more pleasure than usual in his day to day routine, leisurely hemming pants without the bulk of thermal undershirts and smiling happily to his sweaty customers seeking airier outfits.

Lunch with Dr. Bashir had gone well. Garak still believed mammalian-descended beings sweated far too much and too pungently for his tastes, but on Julian, the damp, frizzy hair and thick sheen of sweat made for a very… evocative picture.

"Garak, I know I reek and I'm sorry, but could you please stop scenting the air?"

"Was I? I apologize." _He was not in the least bit sorry._

The doctor sighed. "It's alright, I just wish Miles would have fixed this sooner."

"With a cascade systems failure, I would hope defenses and life support would rank higher than a slight temperature increase, especially one well within the acceptable limit of nearly all species present, I might add."

The doctor huffed and sat up straighter, saying his bit in between rushed bites of lunch.

"While 38 degrees Celsius is technically habitable, it's far from ideal, especially when people are doing strenuous activity and not accustomed to carrying water with them. I've been getting cases of dehydration and heatstroke all week."

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Garak did feel slightly bad, but he was not going to begrudge himself three weeks of warmth due to misplaced guilt. It wasn't as if _he_ had caused the failures.

* * *

Returning to his quarters, kept as warm as the rest of the station year-round, no longer gave the impression of stepping into a safe-haven from perpetual Cardassian winter. At least a Cardassian winter would have the benefits of sloshing rains and seasonal familial gatherings. Oh how he missed his home.

Garak went about his evening reading a frustrating novel of the doctor's and enjoying a simple replicated meal for dinner. A sonic shower was next on his agenda.

As he stripped, he rubbed idly at his chest. It had been quite sore for the past hour or so, which was odd as he didn't remember straining any muscles in his morning exercises.

The shower emitted its soothing and cleansing pulses, and afterwards, Garak wetted his hair and brushed it down, finishing off with a natural oil. As he brushed his teeth, he observed himself in the mirror. He could stand to put on a bit more moisturizer on his scales; they were looking a bit dry. His chufa seemed a few shades darker than usual. Chagrined at the thought of running a fever now of all times, he squinted and leaned in to confirm, then rested the back of his hand against his forehead. He didn't _feel_ hot to the touch.

_Hm._

Had he not been drinking enough fluids? Or perhaps one of his customers had passed along something unsavory? Only time would tell what other symptoms would reveal themselves, because he was not exactly keen on going to the infirmary for anything less than broken ribs.

Instead, he replicated a large cup of water and headed off to bed.

In the morning, as he went through his daily routines, his chest continued to ache. Sometime during the night, it had far surpassed a slight twinge and really was becoming quite aggravating.

Abandoning his nearly-finished plate of regova eggs, he marched into his bathroom and pulled off his shirt. Under the stark bathroom lights and turning this way and that, he could see no discoloration. Lightly, he rubbed his hands along his chest. Perhaps a hairline fracture? His hands, trained in seeking out stitches of Tholian silk and rewiring isolinear data subprocessors, could feel what his eyes could not see.

His chest, previously flat, was unmistakably raised in the barest swell of breasts. It was slight, and if he were not the possessor of his body, he wasn't certain he would have noticed, but they were there.

The sensation was as enlightening as it was disturbing.

He really should have put it together the night before, as it was a well-known phenomenon on Cardassia. The changing of the seasons was too slow for it to trigger, but if, say, one were to move from the Southern to Northern continent, or lived on a station where the temperature suddenly went up 20 degrees…

Cardassians had long since taken advantage of the temperature-dependent genetic quirk to alter sex characteristics for whatever their reason may be. From Bashir, Garak had learned of the many challenges faced by humans to do the same. Current technology had made most procedures quick, safe, and widely available, but as the doctor went further in Earth's past, Garak couldn't help but be amazed by the lengths those humans went to express who they were. But he himself was not quite ready for this sort of change. He was happy with his body and wasn't especially looking forward to the changes that would be happening below the waist if this continued. It was a rather _complete_ process, after all, as it was originally a prehistoric reproductive advantage. Was two weeks long enough to hold out?

In any case, the worst that would happen would be his body adjusting accordingly, then shocked back into place when the temperature returned to normal. He would just have to manage until then.

* * *

The next week was tinged with moderate discomfort, but the ache in his chest had become manageable if not ideal, and his thick shirts prevented anyone from noticing his changing body.

He had taken to dusting his chufa with a pale powder to cover up the darkening pigmentation, and so far, his sex remained intact. The idea of anything… detaching… was a little too much to bear, so he tried not to think about it.

The heat was still glorious, and he tried not to let his body dampen his spirit, but when there were no customers in the shop or in the hours before he could convince himself to sleep, he often found himself focusing on the changes he had undergone and those still to come. Showers became a harried affair, and he wished he had enough resolve to tear himself away from the mirror where his hands poked and prodded almost of their own accord.

His resolve to weather the heat shattered when he next had to relieve himself. The sudden numbness of himself unsheathed was enough to have him finishing his business, washing his hands, and heading to the infirmary.

* * *

"Garak, are you alright?"

Garak gave a strained smile. "If you are free, I would like a private consultation."

The doctor's eyebrows shot up. "Yes, I'm free, of course, let me just – " He pressed a few more keys on his console and the sprang up. "This way."

Bashir guided him into a private room and closed the door behind them.

"Do you have something specific you'd like to discuss?"

"Yes… it's about the heat." Garak did not delight in sharing with his doctor and friend his particular condition, but there was no other way to go about it.

"Do you remember the discussion we had on gender and phenotypical sex expression on Cardassia?"

Doctor Bashir nodded emphatically. "Yes, it was fascinating!" 

"And I mentioned how temperature played a role in governing the phenotypical matters."

His friend's eyes widened in comprehension, then he was scrambling for a PADD.

"Oh, Garak, I'm so sorry, I should have remembered! We could have gotten you on hormone blockers from the start."

Garak pursed his lips. "I might be needing something a bit more proactive."

"Right, of course." He put down the PADD. "Would you prefer to describe your symptoms or have me examine you? The dosage will need to be adjusted based on the stage your body is in."

Garak carefully wiped off the power on his chufa and allowed Bashir to inspect his uncovered chest, but he prudently chose to describe his most recent symptom with words.

Doctor Bashir was professional and understanding, and Garak managed to relax under his care. He would never like infirmaries, but this visit was a weight off his shoulders.

"Come back in an hour, I'll have everything synthesized and three weeks of hyposprays for you to administer."

"Thank you, Doctor." Garak said with sincerity as they stood by the door.

Bashir grinned downward in that charming manner of his. "It's no problem, I'm happy to help."

* * *

Every three days, Garak administered his hypospray, and slowly, his body responded. He privately chided himself for not going to the infirmary sooner, but no one needed to know.

He savored every minute of heat in the nine additional days it had taken for repairs to be finalized and sighed in bitter defeat when he walked out of his room to a blast of "air conditioning" (the worst of Federation inventions.)

He slid back in to bundle up.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this wasn't too off the wall lol.
> 
> Kudos or comments if you enjoyed it! <3


End file.
